


Flounder

by mansikka



Series: On Waking [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring Dean, Caring Sam, Confused Castiel, Confused Dean, Emotional Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Human Castiel, Human Castiel in the Bunker, M/M, Memory Loss, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p> <img/> </p>
</div>The secret's out: there is a reason for the way Dean has been caring for Cas, and an explanation for some of Cas' more confused feelings.<p>They're figuring things out, even if it is stumbling, awkward, and mostly by trial and error, with both of them circling warily and worried about doing the wrong thing.</p><p>But as things grow easier between them the stuff they really, really need to be talking about keeps getting pushed to one side. Is simply being together really going to be enough?</p><hr/>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely people :)
> 
> Firstly, thank you to anyone who took the time to read the first part of this On Waking series, Fail. It's always so good to know people are enjoying the rambling ideas in my head (hopefully) made sense of on the page (screen)!
> 
> Here is part two for you; five chapters of more of the same; there'll be angst, there'll be fluff, and yes, there's space for some smut in this one too. Hurray! 
> 
> I will try to post the chapters on consecutive days, or if that fails every other day; the whole thing is written so there's no point keeping you waiting if you're interested (and I can stop myself proof reading to the point of missing stuff...).
> 
> As for part 3, that's all written as well, and will follow pretty soon after this part is all up. 
> 
> I hope you like it :)
> 
> Big hugs at you all xx

_“I would do anything for you, Dean,” Cas protested quietly._

_“Yeah,” Dean agreed with a bitter laugh. “And look at us now,”_

_“What does that mean?”_

_“It means… it means I’ve gotta live with this... It’s too much. I would never ask this of you, and you… you went and did it anyway,”_

_“It is not the action that I regret, Dean. Not the choice I made,”_

_“Regret’s regret, Cas,”_

_“It is not, Dean.”_

_Cas felt sadness fill him, making him heavy, and aching. “I love you, Dean,” he mumbled, watching as Dean’s back tensed up at his words._

_Dean glimpsed back over his shoulder yet not directly at Cas before resuming his work._

_“You’ll regret that too. Count on it,”_

* * *

“Please, Dean,”

Something in Cas’ subconscious told him that certain words said in a certain tone were all he needed to use to get Dean’s undivided attention. In fact, Cas thought to himself as he stood looking hopefully at Dean and feeling as though he already knew what Dean’s response would be, he had the distinct impression that he could ask anything of Dean, in any way he wanted, and Dean would go out of his way to give him just that.

Perhaps it wasn’t subconscious, Cas thought to himself, pleased with his observation. Perhaps it was just realization of the truth of the way things had once been for them. That perhaps they could have that again eventually, once the dust of all of this surprising upheaval between them had settled and everything felt less delicate, less uncertain.

A tiny smile ghosted Dean’s lips as he looked back at him, giving a short nod of agreement, and Cas felt himself smiling automatically wider in response. Hesitantly, because this was still so new to him, Cas held out his hand, slotted his fingers through Dean’s, and squeezed.

The quiet half-smile Dean gave as he glanced down at their joined hands had Cas’ heart surging, both in happiness that this was a thing they now could do together, and sadness that he couldn’t remember the countless times this had probably happened in the past without either of them giving it much thought.

Cas forced that sadness away firmly though, and he squeezed Dean’s hand again, turning and tugging him along as they walked. He only let go of Dean’s hand when they were at the Impala, sliding into the seat with practiced familiarity and watching patiently as Dean quickly typed on his phone.

“Giving Sam a heads up that we’re gone for a bit,” Dean told him when he saw Cas was looking and Cas smiled, settling back comfortably into his seat. The roar of the engine rumbled beneath them as they pulled out of the garage, and Cas forced himself to breath easy as they made their way along the road from the bunker to join the highway. His eyes skimmed over the landscape rapidly slipping past and behind them as the sun beat down, and he took a moment to try to organize his thoughts.

Almost two weeks had passed since Dean’s outburst had brought Cas’ reality crashing down around him, forcing him to retreat even further from Dean than he had been doing intentionally. And it had only been a couple of days since Dean had managed to reach through Cas’ confusion, to reach _him_ , with reassurance and so much tenderness that it would have been impossible for Cas not to want to lose himself entirely in Dean.

Cas remembered clinging to Dean tightly, being barely able to bring himself to be away from him both in that minute and then from that moment onwards. That first night, Cas had fallen asleep curled up next to Dean with their hands meeting awkwardly on the sheet between them and their eyes fighting to stay open despite how drained and tired they both felt.

Cas took a small breath to calm himself then, and hesitantly reached across the seat to reclaim Dean’s hand, chasing away those strained memories and smiling as Dean reflexively grabbed his hand back to settle it there against his thigh. Cas sneaked a glance over at Dean, catching his eyes momentarily and seeing the confused, warring feelings written across his face.

“You know…. You don’t need to try and rush stuff, Cas. You… you’ve got nothing to prove to me here,” Dean told him carefully, gently squeezing Cas’ fingers as he spoke, as though telling him that despite what he was saying, he also didn’t want to let him go either.

Cas laughed, felt a slight heat to his cheeks, dropping his eyes to their entwined hands. “I hardly think holding your hand would normally be considering ‘ _rushing_ ’ things, Dean,”

“Not normally, no,” Dean agreed, smiling himself. “But… it’s… it’s been hard for you of late. I… I don’t want—”

“I am fine, Dean,” Cas insisted, monitoring his tone so that it didn’t come out too harshly, because the last thing he wanted to do was be snapping at Dean again for no good reason at all, even accidentally. That had happened far too often recently, causing Dean hurt that he did not deserve, and Cas would continue to fight to stop being the cause of any of Dean’s hurt again, intentionally or otherwise.

“Just tryna make things easy for you, s’all,”

Cas nodded, letting his head fall back against the seat and idly staring out of the window for a while before speaking again. “You said that we used to do this,”

Dean looked over to check Cas’ face, tilting his chin towards the window. “This? Go on drives?”

“Yes. I thought… I thought it would be good. For us. Maybe… maybe we can talk,”

“Talk?”

Cas peeked back at Dean in doubt, berating himself although not entirely sure what for. “Did we not talk, Dean?”

“We did,” Dean admitted, his answering nod only small as though he was either unwilling or uncertain. “Not saying we were always great at it, but… yeah, we talked. ‘Course we did,”

“I would like that. To talk. Although I am not sure where to start,”

For a couple of minutes silence filled the car, before Dean awkwardly cleared his throat. “So where’d you wanna head? You hungry?”

“A little. Is there somewhere we used to go? Somewhere we liked?”

Dean grinned at Cas then, with a surge of happiness that told Cas he was doing something right, and pressed down a little more on the accelerator. “I know just the place,”

* * *

In a clean but dated diner, over messy burgers that slipped from their fingers, Cas allowed himself a moment to relax. Trust Dean to pick a place where not only was the food delicious, but there was enough of a distraction in attempting to eat their meal without somehow wearing it, that it took the edge off of his nervousness and made it altogether easier for him.

Dean’s constant awareness of Cas’ needs truly baffled him.

Their conversation was light, unloaded, steering clear of any subject that Cas might find difficult but turning directly towards anything Dean knew would make him smile, or outright laugh. Dean made it so easy for him in fact that without being aware of the moment when it had happened, Cas had pressed himself up against Dean’s side, ducked under his arm and settled his hand around Dean’s thigh as Dean squeezed him gently and pressed a kiss to the side of Cas’ head.

Cas felt Dean linger, press his nose into his hair and pause there a moment longer, inhaling and sighing out soft enough to tickle over Cas’ cheek once he moved again. Cas’ chest tightened to feel it and he forced down a slight surge of bewilderment, honestly not knowing if he wanted to turn into or away from the embrace.

How could it feel too soon, when it already felt so natural for them?

But Dean, of course, understood Cas’ confusion, without it being voiced, without questioning it, without even bringing it up. He seemed content to just hold on to Cas, to keep up that simple conversation, and the innocent, reassuring contact, and the bubbling up of panic Cas had felt and cursed himself for drained away again as quickly as it had come.

* * *

Back in the car Cas reached for Dean’s hand once more, feeling brave as he circled his thumb against Dean’s leg, Cas caught Dean’s quick glimpse down to see it and the resulting grin, and realized he need only study Dean’s reaction to things to know he was doing right.

The drive was silent, except for each of them occasionally pointing things out, asking carefully worded questions and sneaking looks at each other that were met with blushes and small smiles when the other one was caught out.

“This is good, Cas,” Dean said eventually after a longer period with neither of them speaking, looking as though he’d been trying for a while to find the right words to say.

“It is?” Cas must have sounded just as disbelieving as he felt, because instantly Dean was squeezing his fingers and turning to smile at him reassuringly.

“‘Course it is. You, me, Baby. Don’t need much else more to make me happy, Cas. ‘sides from Sam, but tonight’s not really a Sam kind of evening,” Dean added, and the smile that he gave Cas had Cas swallowing awkwardly at the rush of excitement and nervousness it struck him with. Every good feeling he had involving Dean seemed to have an exact opposite, terrifying one to go with it, Cas reflected then, searching for some words himself.

“Are you happy, Dean?”

Dean full on turned to Cas then with an incredulous look that had Cas half-fearing that Dean had forgotten he was actually driving. “Is this one of those _meaning of life_ kinda questions, Cas, or—”

“I meant,” Cas stuttered out, forcing his eyes away in his embarrassment. “I meant that… I only meant that… are you happy with _me_ ,”

At the smallness of Cas’ voice Dean let out a soft, sad sigh, and the next thing Cas knew was that they were pulling over and the engine was being cut. Dean turned fully in his seat, bringing their joined hands up so that he could kiss the back of Cas’ hand before covering them both with his free one.

“I know this’s gotta… This’s gotta be so hard for you, Cas,” He began, soothing circles into the back of Cas’ hand, gentle eyes staring him down understandingly.

“But… as new as _this_ is for you,” Dean emphasized by raising their hands again, “It’s not new for me at all. And… and I know you can’t remember everything but… but you need to know that… _you_ made me happy, Cas. You made me so happy that… that… I ain’t even got the words, Cas,”

Cas smiled, shy, forcing himself to keep looking back at Dean instead of giving in to his urge to look away.

“That didn’t change just ‘cos you forgot some stuff. You _make_ me happy _now_ , just being here. So in answer to your question, yeah, I’m _happy_. You don’t gotta think I’m not, or that I’m… I don’t know… angling for us to be back exactly the way we were before, Cas. I’m happy just to _have_ you here, you know? I… I don’t wanna feel—don’t want you to feel like you owe me something. Like… like you gotta force yourself to do… anything at all, Cas.”

Again, Cas found himself overwhelmed by Dean’s ability to find exactly the words he needed to hear, and sighed in part-relief, part-frustration, letting his head fall back against the seat.

“Up until we spoke on… when we… when you—”

“I get it, Cas,” Dean smiled, squeezing his fingers again, saving him from stumbling over his difficult words even further, paving the way for even scarier ones.

“Up until then… I can assure you that there was a lot more I wanted to do with you than hold your hand, Dean,”

Cas felt his cheeks blush brighter at the amused, adoring twist of a smile on Dean’s face and closed his eyes with a soft grimace feeling every bit foolish.

“As good as that is to hear—and believe me, that is _really_ good to hear, Cas,” Dean said, startling Cas’ eyes open again by a rapid kiss to his forehead. “You’re here. With me. Not going anywhere, not… not pushing me away. Far as I’m concerned? ‘S’all I need right now.”

Cas opened his eyes fully, searching Dean’s face and finding nothing but accepting honesty there, and felt himself begin to feel a little better about the complicated situation they had found themselves in.

He may have insisted on sleeping alone that night on their return to the bunker, but it was after a long, lingering hug where he’d pressed himself into Dean’s neck, allowing his lips to ghost across the skin there and smiling secretly to himself as Dean’ tensed to feel it.

Cas didn’t sleep for a long while, staring up into the darkness with a settled feeling in his chest, a smile on his lips, and memories, new memories to replay that made him quietly hopeful that everything really would work out okay.

* * *

 _This is going too easy_ , Dean thought to himself, smiling at Cas from across the street as he took a turn at interviewing a witness for their case. The smile was automatic; simply seeing Cas often made him grin like an idiot, and watching him be so confident where once he had been awkward and unsure of himself sent a thrill of pride through Dean at how far he'd come.

 _He's not a pet_ , Dean chided himself, knowing just how much Cas, both this one and the one before would hate Dean acknowledging his efforts at doing something he felt he should already long be capable of.

 _Before_ , Dean sighed, both inwardly and audibly. _Before_ was a wicked word. It made it sound as though there really were two entirely different people, that were two versions of Cas, when in reality it wasn't quite like that.

Sure, there was a huge amount Cas wasn't remembering, and if Dean acknowledged how much it hurt that it was _them_ that he had forgotten, he'd never be able to drag himself out of bed in the mornings.

But Cas was still, unquestionably, undeniably Cas. He still had that dry, sometimes odd sense of humor that had Dean throwing his head back and howling with laughter. He still had that bottomless pit of kindness, that quiet strength that spoke of his ability to snap someone in two if he felt it necessary. Angel or no angel, Cas was powerful, and strong, yet soft and gentle at the same time in a way that was so very Cas.

Since they had spoken, or rather, since he had found just the right words to say to make Cas stop running from him, they’d slotted together in many ways that felt like just the perfect fit. But if Dean allowed himself to look too close, to see the constant hesitance and uncertainty on Cas’ face every single time he went to reach for Dean, or say something to him, he could see that there were cracks and tensions that lay just beneath the surface that threatened to rupture and blister, and make this thing between them even more awkward, angular and hard.

Forcing that thought away, Dean smiled again at the easy way Cas held out his hand to the witness to be shook, turning with that effortless kind of grace he had and walking towards him with a look that made Dean's heart thud and his suit pants tighten ridiculously.

That was another thing Cas still was, Dean thought as he let his eyes linger over Cas as he got closer, hot as hell. He always had been, really, even before Dean acknowledged he’d noticed, and long before Dean allowed himself to accept the feeling of want Cas stirred in him.

Cas came to a pause in front of him with a curious expression that told Dean he knew he'd been staring at him; Dean smiled, nodded, slid his hands into his pockets and swung his arms until he was nudging an elbow against Cas'.

"Any luck?" Dean asked, keeping his arm pressed there, and feeling a warmth bloom in his chest when Cas instantly pressed back.

"He said the noises started up about two months ago, but that nobody thought to investigate until a third body was found,"

Dean sighed, raising a hand to cup over his mouth for a second before letting it drop heavily to his side. "People suck. So oblivious to what's going on right in front of them,"

Cas gave him a curious smile, tilting his head in that way that never failed to make Dean want to bathe in its warmth. "We are all guilty of that at times, Dean," he said in that rumbling, serious tone that also, Dean reflected, laughing at himself, made him want to just beam back at him.

 

In fact, just about everything about Cas made Dean so ridiculously, stupidly happy, and content with himself, even in moments such as now when things were strained between them, that Sam used to tease him about walking around as though Cas had hung the stars in Dean's sky.

A memory flashed abruptly for Dean, of Cas catching Sam saying just that, and then insisting on pointing out in meticulous detail the actual stars he himself was responsible for above them. That feeling of warmth surged in Dean then as he remembered; a cold night, a soft breeze, and Cas’ heat pressed into his side as though he belonged there.

Dean ached for Cas to feel that way again.

Coming back to himself and realizing Cas was still waiting for some kind of response from him, Dean cleared his throat and nodded. "Guilty as charged,"

Cas studied him momentarily as though looking for a hidden meaning in his words, then also nodded in acceptance, tilting his chin in the direction of down the street.

"I am told that the bakery over there has an apple pie 'worth selling my soul for'," Cas told him, the slight curving up of his lips indicating his amusement at the choice of words.

Dean laughed, looking in the same direction. "Guy just up and told you that for no reason?"

"I asked,"

That bloom of warmth spread even further for Dean, going some way to soften the lingering sense of doubt that flared up at him at the oddest of times, both in moments where it was probably to be expected, and in those when it really was not.

"Hungry, Cas?" Dean said anyway, ignoring the whispers of _what ifs_ that quietly picked away at him in secret.

"Not especially," Cas told him, a hopeful look in his eyes that had Dean aching to wrap Cas up, drive them somewhere, and stay there until he could take away that look of _lost_ there so perpetually on Cas’ face. That Cas was trying so hard to give him things that he thought Dean might like, and want for himself, was so endearing, so comforting, and yet so bittersweet; Cas didn’t seem to realize that just being _there_ was giving Dean all he could ever want.

With a quick smile and a tilt of his chin Dean gave his agreement, and shoulder to shoulder, a little too close for the FBI agents they were pretending to be, they walked in the direction of the bakery, with Dean forcibly steering his thoughts to happier things.

* * *

 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“I know you’re still struggling a bit with this, Cas, but I got an idea,”

Dean pressed his shoulder against Cas’ and leaned closer as they stood together waiting for Sam, offering him an affectionate, open smile. Cas nodded, pressing back easily, still finding himself happily surprised when Dean didn’t pull away from him.

It had been a couple of weeks now, a couple of weeks of being them , and though Cas felt happier than he thought was possible there was still so much uncertainty in him, so much difficulty between them, that often Cas found himself checking and rechecking his every action, which left him reaching and pulling back from Dean simultaneously.

“You keep saying that… you don’t know what you’re doing, ‘cos you don’t remember how you used to be with me. Right?” Dean said, as though he had reached into Cas’ mind and summarised every last one of his doubts perfectly.

“Yes,”

The closeness that had grown between them was stilted, and cautious, with both of them circling around each other warily and afraid to overstep their mark, to do something the other would withdraw from. Despite the want that was so clearly there for them both. It was tiring, Cas thought to himself, the constant checking and second-guessing, when all he really wanted to do was just lean into Dean, accept that they could have this between them, to silence all the doubtful thoughts replaying in his head.

“So why don’t you just… stop thinking so hard,” Dean suggested, and Cas fought back the urge to laugh at Dean’s apparent ability of mind-reading.

“Just… Just try. Being with me. Doing… whatever you feel like doing. ‘Stead of worrying about what the old you—what before you would or wouldn’tve done. Believe me, Cas. I can’t think of a single thing you’d do that’d make you push me away. I’m… I’m yours, Cas. And I know this is… all kinds of weird, for you and me both. But you need to know I’m… I’m not going anywhere, Cas,”

Acceptance settled cautiously on Cas at Dean’s words, allowing him to voice his fears a little more than he had felt able to up until then.

“I… it would be easier, Dean, if you just… took.”

“‘Took?’” Dean turned in slightly so that he was half-facing Cas, and Cas felt a jolt of excitement and fear at the way Dean pressed against him. “Cas… I’m not _taking_ anything. It’s… we’re not like that. We just… we need to take this at any pace you need. I’m not… asking to take anything from you. But you’ve… you’ve gotta stop being so careful around me, okay? Stop… worrying that everything you might say and do is wrong. It isn’t, Cas. It won’t be,”

“I feel as though I am letting you down, Dean,” Cas mumbled, dropping his eyes away with embarrassment.

“How?” Dean replied, very clearly confused by Cas’ response.

“Because… there are… there are things … that… that I am not giving you, Dean,”

Dean chuckled, closing his eyes with a groan and letting his head drop forward before twisting to look at Cas with an amused grin.

“That’s what’s bothering you? That we haven’t… done… stuff yet?”

Cas gave an embarrassed nod, allowing himself once quick glimpse at Dean’s face to search for the disappointment, or mirth there, and finding none.

“Cas… we’re… much as, uh, that … that’s important?” Dean stumbled out, his cheeks flaring but not stopping him from speaking. “Cas… there’s so much more to us than just that. Just… all in good time, okay? Let’s just… get to know this new you a little better before we start worrying about that,”

“But Dean,” Cas replied, turning a little himself until his hands were carefully resting on Dean’s hips. It felt good to be able to do that, to reach out and touch whenever he wanted. Even if he still couldn’t believe it was happening and most of the time he felt out of his depth and unsure of what to do.

“Dean,” he tried again, having distracted himself, and finding himself even further distracted as Dean’s hands drifted up to rest along the flats of his shoulders. “Surely if we were… we were…”

But he couldn’t find it in him to stumble out words like intimate, too afraid of Dean’s response. Because what if it hadn’t been like that for them, and it was just his overactive imagination that suggested to him otherwise? What if that constant feeling of want that surged through him wasn’t readily returned?

Dean cocked an eyebrow and Cas watched as Dean’s smile stretched with understanding and he winked back at him.

“Oh we were,” Dean assured him, and Cas felt himself blush, but altogether relieved.

“Then,” Cas continued, stepping the tiniest bit closer until the warmth of Dean was pressed completely up against him. “Surely… surely you have… needs?”

This time Dean laughed softly, lifting his hands up to cup Cas’ face and smile at him with such affection that Cas couldn’t help melting against him.

“Like I’ve just been trying to tell you. What I need, Cas, I’ve got. ‘Cos I have you. Anything else we had together like… physical stuff? We’ll get to it. When you’re ready. When we’re both ready. Okay?”

“But if you have had... that. With me. I—”

“Cas,” Dean stopped him as though he could actually sense the doubt and panic bubbling away beneath Cas’ skin. “I’ve got all I need, alright? I… there’s no rush here, okay? Just… let’s just… take it as it comes, okay?”

Telling himself he would never be good enough to deserve this kindness and understanding from Dean, Cas slid his hands around Dean’s back to embrace him and let his head fall in comfort on to Dean’s shoulder as Dean’s arms circled reassuringly around his neck.

* * *

There was nothing intrinsically wrong with he and Cas, Dean told himself for what felt like the hundredth time as he tried to convince his tired mind to rest.

A sigh into the darkness, a glance at the time on his phone, and Dean groaned out loud to himself, knowing sleep was currently out of his reach. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, flexing his toes against the coolness of the floor and fumbling out for the light switch so he could seek out what Sam called his Grandpa slippers, to match his Dead Guy Robe. The slippers were comfortable, the three of them often trudged in dirt that only he seemed to clean up without prompting, and the bunker floor was far too cold to go barefoot, Dean defended to himself, standing and stretching halfheartedly before quietly padding out of his room.

It still sat uncomfortably that he'd gone back to referring to it as his room rather than theirs, but Cas needed time, and space, and Dean would give him whatever he needed, even if the bed was too empty and he still woke reaching for him when Cas was too uncomfortable to stay.

No, nothing was wrong between them, Dean thought with a dejected sigh, not fighting the sadness that washed through and weighed him down. But neither was it particularly right between them either.

The affection was there, bubbling beneath the surface and often breaking through enough for Cas to hesitantly reach out, take his hand, touch him in some way that gave both of them reassurance and comfort. It was the guarded way Cas still went about doing it, the look that repeatedly asked Dean if what he was doing was okay, that on more than one occasion had Dean's heart sinking and wish that before they'd attempted to get back to a place that Cas couldn't remember they had actually sat down and talked about things, put them both on the same page.

Despite Dean constantly reassuring Cas that they could take as much time as they—he needed, Cas seemed permanently worried that Dean felt he was missing out. Dean struggled and failed to find the right words, the right gestures, to show Cas he really meant it when he said he would wait as long as Cas needed him to wait.

Dean missed the physical side of their relationship, of course he did. But what he missed more, what he found himself longing for more than anything else was that ease they had once had between them, where they just were, and everything had felt so simple.

Squaring his shoulders against his misgivings, Dean pulled out a chair at the table and slumped down onto it heavily, idly snatching up the tablet in front of him and skimming through news stories without much interest for what he was reading at all.

That was the other thing he missed, Dean reflected heavily. That there had once been an out, a future of sorts in their plans that spoke of an after hunting that Dean had spent most of his life thinking he would never get to see Sam living, or have for himself. But Cas had shown him that possibility, one where they could grow old together in a way that didn’t sound cliche and boring to him at all, and have time to discover the things they both enjoyed doing that didn't need to involve pain, and death, and constant fighting.

In theory that was still something they could all so easily have, and so easily take. But with the constant undercurrent of waiting they all seemed to feel now since Cas had woken, nothing was certain.

With a slump of his shoulders Dean pushed the tablet away from him, folded his arms against the table and dropped down his head, allowing himself a moment to really feel the defeat he was feeling.

* * *

Morning found Dean slumped in the same position having finally succumbed to sleep; he rolled his shoulders with soft complaint at the ache there, frowning as he sat up to find a thick blanket slipping from his shoulders.

A sound off to his right had Dean turning his sleep-stiffened neck, and Dean felt himself waking instantly at the sight of Cas approaching with a pot of coffee and a large mug.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas mumbled, sliding the mug in front of him and filling it before coming around to Dean’s side of the table and sitting down beside him.

"Morning, Cas," Dean yawned, snagging his fingers out to wrap around the mug, letting his fingertips leach the heat from there.

Without prompting, Cas adjusted and tucked the blanket back around Dean's shoulders, and the gesture warmed Dean in an entirely different way. Cas stiffened momentarily at Dean tilting his head to rest against Cas' shoulder, but before Dean could pull away in the sadness he felt shifting in him, Cas was bringing his arm up to wrap around Dean and pull him closer so that Dean's face was buried in the crook of his neck.

Pleased and surprised, Dean nuzzled into him, absently pressing kisses to Cas' skin. Cas hummed in approval, and Dean sighed out as he felt Cas' fingers stroking through the hair on the back of his neck.

"This is a real nice way to wake up, Cas," Dean whispered against him, feeling Cas' arms tighten around him in response.

"It is uncomfortable for your neck and back, Dean," Cas disagreed, his tone full of gentle reprimand while he stroked a hand over Dean’s neck as though trying to soothe it. “You should not allow yourself to fall asleep at the table,”

"I meant with you. Waking up with you, Cas," Dean told him tiredly, fighting back the wave of sadness threatening to spill over him all over again. It wasn’t Cas’ fault that the easy words he once understood without misunderstanding now so easily went over his head more than they made sense for him.

"Oh,"

Silence followed as Dean slowly sipped at his coffee, feeling Cas watching him but neither awake nor alert enough to fully comment.

Without warning, Cas was dragging the cup away from Dean's fingers and swallowing down the rest of the coffee himself. Dean let out a disgruntled sound, and then a surprised one as Cas tugged on his hand, pulling him to his feet.

"It is early, Dean," Cas said, pulling Dean with him as he walked.

"So what're you doing up?" Dean mumbled, stumbling along behind him, confused.

"It appears you and I shared a similar problem. I could not sleep either,"

Dean nodded dumbly though Cas wasn’t particularly looking in his direction, and allowed Cas to guide them through the bunker. When they came to a stop outside Dean's room, Cas fixed him with a look that was hopeful, yet scared and searching.

"We could sleep a little later, Dean. Together. If you would like,"

Dean felt himself breaking into a smile and reached out immediately to pull Cas into a warm hug. "I'd like that a lot, Cas," he told him, unsurprised that his own voice croaked.

With a nod and a smile right back at him Cas guided Dean through the door, softly closing it behind them. And much to Dean’s delight, without invitation Cas made his way to the bed— _their_  bed—sliding down immediately under the covers with a contented huff.

"This bed is so comfortable, Dean," Cas said absently as Dean climbed in carefully beside him.

"'S yours, Cas. Anytime you want it. Anytime you wanna come back,"

In answer, Cas rolled himself until he was flush against Dean, all but burying himself in Dean's arms and wriggling a little there to get comfortable.

Dean held his breath, wondering for a second if he was actually dreaming, then dropped a kiss on the top of Cas' head and fell straight into a restful sleep.

* * *

An easiness had settled over Dean and Cas, leaving things between them a little more relaxed, and the hesitancy Cas had felt at first beginning to fade away to almost nothing. When he reached for Dean now there wasn't a pause, no second guessing, and he was rewarded by both Dean's smiles and the simple way in which he just reached back for him.

Hugs were more frequent, words came out more naturally, and more nights than not, Cas followed Dean to his— _their_ room, falling asleep comfortably beside him. Some nights Cas kept to his side of the bed, craving the closeness but also needing the distance, which Dean seemed to understand without question. And on those nights Cas’ hand, or leg, would still reach out anyway without any thinking, so that there was still some kind of contact to anchor him to Dean. But on other nights, Cas would bury himself against Dean’s chest, or wriggle back against him insistently until Dean chuckled against his hair and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him even closer.

Cas found that the nights where he and Dean sat side by side on the bed, watching or at least half-watching something on a laptop as they spoke freely, some of his favorites times with Dean. He liked that they were creating these moments, these new memories for him; it eased the bittersweetness he felt every time Dean told him about something they had once shared together that he didn’t remember for himself.

In exchange, Cas told Dean stories of things he did remember, of times long before humanity had existed and its many impacts on the surface of the Earth ever since, which seemed to leave Dean completely enthralled and hanging on his every word.

Cas skirted around the subject of his memory often, every now and then making passing references to it that had Dean looking at him cautiously as though not sure what his reaction should be.

“I’ll tell you anything you wanna know, Cas,” Dean frequently told him despite his obvious hesitance; that Dean was both willing and unwilling settled heavily on Cas, burdening him with a responsibility he didn’t know what to do with.

Cas found himself pushing the idea of knowing further away each time it tried to surface, losing himself to other, happier thoughts that made him smile instead of worry, and soon it became second nature to avoid the subject almost altogether, thanks to Dean’s constant awareness of Cas’ needs conspiring with Cas’ own avoidance.

“And if it doesn’t come back at all?” Cas asked, on those days when a thousand different possibilities for his falling assaulted his senses, leaving it literally impossible to think of anything else at all.

“Then we’ll deal,” Dean told him simply, wrapping his arms around Cas tightly and mumbling reassurances into him until Cas felt himself relax once again.

* * *

Cas traced his thumb over the photo of him and Dean now restored to the side of their bed, and smiled.

He glanced around the room, felt a quiet surge of pride at seeing his few possessions scattered around as though he belonged there, and walked up to the closet to open the door and check his clothes were still hanging there beside Dean’s. Why he needed to check he wasn’t sure, but Cas found himself doing it often when Dean was out of the room, still needing the reassurance but not wanting to burden Dean with it.

On silent hinges Cas closed the door again, hearing Dean returning from down the hall.

Dean smiled at him curiously, taking in the way Cas’ hand rested against the closet door, “What you doing?”

“Nothing,” Cas told him simply, allowing his eyes to flit over Dean’s hair where it stood on end from the shower, before letting them drift a slow path down him until Dean snorted in amusement under Cas’ inspection.

“You checking me out, Cas?” Dean asked, his eyes crinkling up as he took a step closer to Cas, and Cas shrugged easily, smiling right back.

“Of course,”

Dean outright chuckled as though Cas might be the funniest thing he had ever seen, then stood perfectly still as Cas continued to just watch.

Cas made a decision to himself, that he was tired of waiting, that looking at Dean, as he always seemed to be doing, was no longer anywhere near enough.

With shaking hands and hesitant steps, Cas closed the gap between them until he was chest to chest with Dean, finding no relief in the sudden nervousness he saw on Dean’s own face. When they were both what the other wanted, and being around each other felt so very right, it seemed beyond belief that there was still this carefulness between them that kept them mostly at arms length from each other.

But it was time to change that, and long past the time for one of them to break this awkwardness, and if Dean was insistent on doing everything the correct way, of waiting until Cas was ready, Cas thought that they might remain in this frustrating state of limbo indefinitely.

Ignoring the fluttering of his heart Cas leaned in, fixing his eyes firmly on Dean’s mouth as though to warn him of his intention.

“Cas,” Dean stammered out, although his own eyes immediately mirrored Cas’. “Cas. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do anything. Not till you’re—”

“Dean,” Cas told him, bringing his hands up to cradle Dean’s face between them, “If you tell me one more time that I do not need to do anything until I am ready, it is highly likely that I am going to combust,”

Dean’s lips parted slightly in a surprised laugh, and before he could offer any further protest Cas tilted up, pressing their mouths together.

Cas might have thought about kissing Dean an infinite number of times. He might even have hoped, somewhat foolishly, that kissing Dean would give him back his memories. But all that happened when his lips finally tasted Dean’s was that he found himself wanting more.

Cas pressed his lips against Dean’s gently, pulling back only slightly to check his reaction then leaning in again. He repeated this three times, until he felt Dean’s shaking hands drifting up over his arms, and Dean was cupping the back of Cas’ head, kissing him back with a sense of urgency.

“Cas,” he whispered brokenly against Cas’ lips as he pulled back, before surging forward again and kissing him a little harder. Every parting of Cas’ lips was met with Dean mirroring the action, the softness there slotting so effortlessly against his own mouth making Cas stumble forward and grip tightly on to Dean to keep himself upright.

Dean tasted of mint, telling Cas he’d not long brushed his teeth, and Cas surprised himself by swirling his tongue into Dean’s mouth for more of the taste. Dean gasped, and the movement seemed to suck Cas’ tongue in a little further, with Dean’s instantly sliding over Cas’ as a soft moan escaped from his lips and Dean kissed back harder still.

Cas matched him, nudging at the corner of Dean’s lips which seemed to make him whimper, which in turn urged Cas on to kiss back with a tortured gasp of his own.

Without warning Dean was spinning him, backing Cas up against the wall, pressing their bodies firmly together, ducking down and kissing brokenly along Cas’ neck with gripping fingers to his hips, before raising his head against and claiming his mouth once again.

Cas found no objection, his own hands resting against the small of Dean’s back only for a moment before he slid them down, gripped Dean’s ass, and grinded up against him insistently.

“Cas,” Dean called out, even more brokenly this time. But Cas was too busy nuzzling and licking his own trail along Dean’s neck, and jaw, and ear, licking back into Dean’s mouth with a soft moan of enjoyment that had Dean groaning out all over again.

For several minutes, that felt much, much longer, this frantic kiss continued, only slowing when breathing became labored for them both, and Dean dropped his forehead down on Cas’ shoulder, breathing hard.

“I do not understand why it took us so long to do that,” Cas whispered breathlessly against the side of Dean’s head, pressing an almost absent kiss there.

Dean’s answer was to groan once more, cup his hands to Cas’ face and start kissing him all over again.

* * *

There were many things about humanity that Cas had instantly taken a liking to, such as showers, soft clean sheets, and much to the dismay of Dean, the early morning sun when he and Sam went running.

Naturally, there was also Dean.

One of the things that Cas would happily go without, however, were headaches.

Cas groaned, feeling sullen and sorry for himself, his shoulders stooped under the weight of his heavy head that throbbed and pulsed so painfully it had his eyes watering. He had taken painkillers, tried massaging the pressure points Sam had suggested, but nothing, not even his normal solace in the shower was doing anything to help. All Cas wanted was to curl up and close his eyes, to have it all go away.

Dean bent down over the chair Cas was sitting on at the table and pressed a light kiss against Cas’ temple, whispering, “How’s the head?”

Cas grumbled incoherently, leaning back against him before turning and nuzzling into Dean’s neck, mumbling what he knew was a pathetic, “Abhorrent,”

Sympathetic hands soothed down Cas’ back, over his neck, kneading there a little and making Cas’ head drop forward with a soft groan of appreciation.

“Keep doing that, please,” he mumbled, feeling Dean instantly settle on a chair behind him and resume his gentle care. “That feels very good,”

“Maybe you could try sleeping?” Dean suggested, leaning in and kissing over every stroke he made with his fingers.

“We have work to do,” Cas replied, his voice already sleepy and mumbling in a way that had Dean smiling into his neck.

“Let it wait,”

“It is important, Dean,” But Cas’ protest was less than half-hearted, leaning back into Dean’s warmth and sighing as Dean slipped his arms around him.

“Come to bed, Cas,” Dean whispered into his ear and ghosting kisses up the length of his neck.

“You will come too?” Cas asked, surprised and hopeful.

“Sure. Could sleep for a bit,” Dean said with an exaggerated yawn before he stood and pulled Cas to his feet, ducking and kissing him briefly and guiding Cas along to their room.

* * *

“How’re you feeling now?”

Gentle kisses over the back of Cas’ neck and a gentle stroking of fingers over his stomach had Cas waking softly and pushing appreciatively back against Dean.

“Better. I feel better, Dean,” Cas said, so full of relief, burrowing himself back into the circle of Dean’s arms with a contented sigh.

Dean smiled against him, continuing to press kisses to his neck, and his nose into Cas’ hair where he inhaled, giving his own pleased hum as he wrapped his arms a little tighter.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said, threading his fingers through Dean’s and squeezing.

“I didn’t do anything,” Dean told him whispering into his neck, nuzzling against his shoulder and showering Cas with such affection that Cas couldn’t help but lay there happily and accept every moment of it.

“Yes you did. You suggested that we came back to bed. It was a very good suggestion,”

Dean smiled a kiss just beneath Cas’ ear and smiled wider at the shiver it caused; Cas dragged himself up and turned over, sinking Dean back against the pillows and showering him with his own grateful kisses that began gently, but soon turned more heated as Dean’s hands slipped beneath his shirt, and over his ass, not seeming to miss a single inch.

“Dean,” Cas choked out as Dean bit down on his pulse point, flipping him over easily and pinning Cas back against the bed, leaving him gasping out in surprise. Kisses that sought out skin along his neck left Cas breathless and arching up, asking for more. Dean’s fingers stroked up Cas’ arms, thumbs circling over the curve of his biceps. His nose nudged along the neckline of Cas’ shirt, and he pressed a harder kiss just above the first button before resting his chin there.

“There is no need to stop, Dean,”

Cas lifted a hand to run his fingers through Dean’s hair, smiling in reassurance to urge him on. Dean held his gaze, as though to check the truth behind his words, pressed another kiss over the shirt button and shifted so that he could slide a finger beneath the fabric and pop the button open.

Dean bent down, kissing newly exposed skin, glancing up to check Cas’ expression. When he saw nothing but acceptance there Dean moved again, undoing another button, kissing his way down Cas’ chest until the shirt was completely undone and he could push it back. At the exposing of so much skin, Dean’s eyes drifted over him slowly, looking down at him with what Cas thought must be lust in his eyes.

Another glancing check, and Dean was moving again; a kiss to Cas’ collarbone that worked its way down a flat expanse of skin. A tongue flicking out over a nipple and had Cas stuttering out a soft oh that had Dean groaning softly to himself. And as Dean raised his thumb to skip over Cas’ other nipple, Cas arched up against his mouth before reaching down to cup Dean’s face and pull him up, until Dean was hovering awkwardly above him.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean whispered against his lips, unconsciously circling his hips against him.

Cas nodded, his own fingers now reaching out and up under the edge of Dean’s t-shirt, pressing a path up over the flat of Dean’s chest until Dean shifted enough to help Cas lift the shirt over his head.

Cas swallowed, eyes drifting down over Dean’s chest greedily before reaching out, touching skin that he’d longed to touch for so long he’d already imagined the feel of it. When Dean leaned back down and their bare chests touched, a rumble of contentment stirred its way out of him and Cas splayed his fingers over Dean’s back, pulling him as close to him as possible.

Dean’s mouth claimed Cas’, nudging his lips apart and licking his way in, swallowing Cas’ answering gasp. Dean wriggled until he’d parted Cas’ knees, then reached down to grip them, pull them up, groaning himself as he felt Cas’ hardness against his own.

Instinctively Cas rolled himself up against Dean, chasing his biting kisses and sliding his fingers into Dean’s jean pockets to press him even closer.

“You’re right, Cas, I take it back,” Dean mumbled, sliding his fingers under Cas’ head to hold him in place as he kissed him thoroughly. “Making out is the best, only cure for a headache,”

Cas smiled gummily at him, arching his back so that their chests were pressing even more firmly together. “Then I must ensure you are available the next time I get a headache, Dean. I would not even mind having another were you able to help me in this way again,”

Dean laughed loud, shifting until Cas was bracketed between his elbows, kissing Cas slowly, thoroughly and in no hurry at all.

* * *

 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

“You’re smiling again,”

Dean looked up absently at Sam’s comment, staring blankly at him for a second until the words registered and he forced his face into a scowl.

“Whaddya mean _again_? You say it like —”

“I say it like it’s good to see you happy,” Sam countered with an arched eyebrow before Dean had the chance to protest.

Dean opened his mouth to speak then instantly closed it again and shrugged, the smile creeping back across his face as he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the table and pressed himself backward with a contented stretch.

“Cas?” Sam prompted when it looked as though Dean wasn’t going to say anything in response, and Dean was nodding, the smile a little more humble, showing just how relieved and grateful he felt for things appearing to be working out between them once again.

“Yeah,” Dean said, unaware of the affection in his voice that Sam heard, smirked to himself at, but left without comment. “Yeah. We’re, uh… we’re getting there,”

“So long as I don’t have to hear about the _there —_”

“C’mon, Sam,” Dean said in protest, making Sam’s answering laugh gleeful, and wicked.

“But you’re good?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “It’s… really not easy, at all. We’re like… dancing around each other a bit like we’re boxing or something at times. But yeah… things are... We’re getting there.”

Sam nodded, toying with the handle of his coffee cup and staring as though right through it.

“He seems more settled. When we run—”

“I cannot believe you convinced him to do that,” Dean said sternly, pointing a finger out at Sam to emphasize his incredulous tone.

Sam gave another gleeful laugh and shrugged. “Guy wants to keep healthy. Maybe he’s keeping in shape for—”

“Do not finish that sentence unless you wanna be wearing that coffee ‘stead of the smug smile you got there, Sammy,” Dean warned him, his cheeks flaring red enough to contradict his indignance.

Sam, of course, couldn’t help but immediately laugh once again.

Dean rolled his eyes and glanced out the window, the easy silence they shared filling the space between them.

“What… when you guys _run_ ,” Dean said after a while, biting that last word out as though it tasted rancid against his tongue, “What… do you talk about?”

Sam raised an eyebrow and snorted. “You’re eavesdropping on mine and Cas’ private conversations now, Dean?”

“It’s hardly _eavesdropping_ when _a_ , I’m not there to drop no eaves, and _b_ , I’m right _here_ , asking you to your face,”

Sam shrugged, and reached out to drain the last of his coffee. “Sounds like eavesdropping to me,”

“Well it’s not,” Dean insisted, although still staring back expectantly at Sam waiting for an answer.

“All kindsa stuff. Things he’s thinking about being human. Stuff he wants to try. Things we pass when we’re running. You, sometimes,” Sam added cautiously, seeing Dean’s instant straightening up with interest.

“Like what?”

“Dean, c’mon,”

“I… I don’t need specifics, Sam. I just… I wanna know if he’s worrying about anything that… that maybe I can help with. That… that may be… maybe is related to me,”

Sam’s expression softened, and he nodded in understanding. “Not really, no.”

“‘Not really?’ Or not at all?”

“Dean,” Sam laughed shaking his head slightly, “I don’t… I don’t think Cas’d appreciate you asking like this,”

That stopped Dean in his tracks and his face grew troubled, downturned and staring at the table as though embarrassed by his own prying.

“I didn’t mean—”

“He’s doing okay, Dean. Honestly. That’s… that’s pretty much all you need to know,”

“But you’d tell me. You’d tell me if he said something that… that made you worry, right?” Dean asked, pleading in his voice that made Sam snort in exasperation.

“Stop… mother-henning the guy, Dean. He’s doing okay. He’s doing _fine_ , Dean. If… If he's worrying about anything he’ll probably tell you first anyway,”

“I just… sometimes I think maybe we should talk more. About… you know. What happened, and—and all kindsa stuff.”

“So why don’t you?”

“‘Cos it’s _us_?” Dean laughed, grimacing at himself. “Not exactly chapter and verse kinda guys at the best of times —at any time, right?”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “But you do _talk_ , right?”

“We do,” Dean agreed hesitantly, drumming his fingers as though he needed the distraction.

“So,” Sam said, shrugging. “So quit worrying. If things are… if things are going okay, just… quit worrying.”

“You saying I should let him be?”

“I’m saying you should let him be,” Sam confirmed, stretching and nodding for them to leave.

“Good talk,” Dean mumbled under his breath as he rose to join Sam, but shot him a grateful smile nonetheless.

* * *

A peal of thunder rocked the motel room and for a moment the lights flickered, stumbling back to life and bathing the room in a sickly orange glow.

“‘Kay. I’m going to my room before this rain gets any worse. See you in the morning,” Sam yawned, stretching tall with his fingers skimming against the ceiling and an unconsciously childlike, triumphant smile ghosting his face that Dean huffed to himself at seeing and Cas in turn smiled at himself.

Absent goodbyes signaled Sam’s departure, leaving Dean and Cas to quietly pack up the things they’d been researching and ready themselves for bed.

“Mind if I take first shower?” Dean asked as Cas swung his bag up onto the bed and began to zip it open. Cas shook his head to show he didn’t, smiling as Dean leaned in to claim a quick kiss.

Cas lost himself in a book until Dean appeared a little later, his eyes drifting over the fit of Dean’s t-shirt and boxers long enough to make Dean smirk knowingly at him. Rolling his eyes, Cas quickly gathered his own things for the bathroom and walked up to Dean, leaning in for his own kiss that was a little less chaste than Dean’s had been, leaving Dean to grin to himself as he closed the door behind him.

Cas’ shower was quick, precise. This unforeseen stop at a motel because of the abrupt change in weather meant they were missing out on the luxury of the bunker’s facilities as well as having to attempt sleep in an uncomfortable, uneven bed. But it did have some positives even if they were only minor. The look on Dean’s face when they’d checked in and Cas had laced their fingers together as they’d been handed their room keys. The easy way he and Dean had fit together side by side as the three of them checked details for the case they were working. The pleased look Sam had given him when Dean was looking elsewhere that said _thank you_ and _I’m happy for you_.

Cas returned to the room to find Dean resting his hands on the narrow window sill and leaning down to look out at the rain. Silently walking up behind him, Cas curled himself around Dean’s back, laying his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes in contentment. There was a brief jostle as Dean lifted one hand from where it was resting to lay over Cas’ joined hands against his stomach.

“Looks like it’s on for the night,”

Cas hummed in agreement, turning to nuzzle against Dean’s shoulder and press a kiss between his shoulder blades. He smiled to feel the way Dean clearly enjoyed the gesture so repeated it, slipping his hands from Dean’s grip and sliding them around and under Dean’s t-shirt to expose his back.

With small circles and gentle pressure, Cas worked his way up Dean’s back, feeling the softening beneath his fingers and hearing the sighs of pleasure escaping Dean’s lips as he did. At one point he had Dean straighten, wordlessly lift his arms so Cas could slip his t-shirt up over his head, then gently pressed into his shoulder telling Dean to lean down again.

Cas continued his massage, reveling in the way the knots and stiffness in Dean’s muscles became pliant under his touch, following up the touches with kisses along Dean’s shoulders and into his neck until Dean gave out a final, longer sigh that told Cas he was ready for him to stop.

Dean stood up straight again, and Cas slid his hands over Dean’s stomach and chest from behind, still absently pressing kisses into his skin as he pressed himself flush against Dean’s back. Dean’s hands ghosted over Cas’, his fingers trailing patterns over the backs of Cas’ hands.

“You always did have the best hands, Cas,” Dean told him softly as he settled back against him.

Cas smiled into his shoulder; “Did I used to use them to do this for you?”

“You did,”

Cas slid one hand up Dean’s torso, brushing gentle fingertips over both of Dean’s nipples in turn until he felt them stiffen under his touch. With his other hand he briefly squeezed Dean’s fingers between his own then slid it down until it was resting low on Dean’s stomach. Cas smiled at the way Dean’s stomach rippled at his touch, forced the nervousness he began to feel spiking firmly away, and slid his hand lower, trailing his fingers either side of Dean’s length and smiling into Dean’s skin when he felt it begin to stir against his palm.

“And to do this?” Cas asked softly, peppering Dean’s shoulder with gentle kisses.

At Dean’s hum of enjoyment Cas’ confidence grew, and he pressed harder, stroking until Dean was hard enough for him to wrap his hand around Dean through the fabric of his boxers. Cas grazed his thumb over Dean’s head, his own breath stuttering to feel a little dampness already there. Dean pressed back into him and Cas’ rocked his hips in answer, groaning softly at the low buzz of pleasure radiating out through him.

Cas withdrew his hand; Dean’s answering whimper of disapproval at the loss had Cas stiffen harder, and he rocked up against Dean more insistently as he dragged his thumbs up to hook into the waistband of Dean’s boxers, softly tugging them down.

Cas’ nervousness spiked again; despite how much he wanted Dean, how much he’d been thinking about all the ways he wanted to touch him, and how obviously willing Dean was for him to just do that, this was the first time—that he could remember, anyway—that he was actively doing so.

With trembling fingers Cas reached out, stroking an experimental trail along Dean’s shaft that made Dean’s head fall back and an unexpectedly loud groan to rumble deep out of his throat. Uncertain, Cas stilled his fingers; Dean circled his hips, insistent, and shook his head rapidly.

“Don’t stop,” he croaked out, and when Cas was sure there was no objection he gripped Dean lightly in his fist, stroking a gentle but steady rhythm that had Dean moaning out even louder.

Cas dropped his free hand to Dean’s hip, both to steady Dean and himself. “Are you okay?” he asked, unsure of what Dean’s seemingly over-enthusiastic reactions meant.

Dean let out a choked laugh and pressed back harder against him. “You kidding me?”

“No, Dean, I—”

“Cas,”

Softly Dean raised his hand to cover Cas’ own on his hip, squeezing it in reassurance. “Cas. Let’s just say it’s, uh… been a while.”

Cas’ heart gave out a hard thud and he let his head fall forward against Dean’s shoulder with a sigh. “I am sorry, Dean,”

“Don’t be sorry. You feel too good to be sorry. Just keep… keep going,”

Cas pressed another kiss into Dean’s shoulder and tightened his grip, swirling his thumb over Dean’s head and slicking him down as best he could, smiling at Dean’s responding groan. Dean hot and hard against his own palm felt better than anything Cas had been imagining, curling _want_ in his own gut so tightly that he couldn’t stop himself rocking erratically against him.

Standing there in a cheap motel room with the sound of the rain pounding down against the window outside, Cas had a powerful realization. Perhaps his mind had forgotten much of what he and Dean had shared together, and perhaps those memories would always be lost. But this, him stroking Dean and knowing instinctively what to do to make Dean sigh and groan the hardest, what he could do to give Dean pleasure, told Cas that this was something he could get right without having to second guess it. That he had nothing to fear, that his hesitance was pointless, because clearly his body already knew exactly what he was doing.

Picking up his rhythm a little, Cas bit down softly on Dean’s shoulder blade before laving his tongue over it, smiling at Dean’s intake of breath. Holding Dean like this, feeling in control and yet safe from Dean’s watchful eyes, Cas felt a burst of confidence to speak.

“I thought of you, Dean. Like this. When I was awake alone in the bunker after I fell.”

“Cas,” Dean bit out hoarsely, immediately grinding back against him.

“I thought about doing this to you, about doing so many things with you, when I was touching myself. I kept telling myself you would never want this. I—”

“I want it,” Dean stammered out, gasping again as Cas twisted his grip. “Want you, Cas. Never stopped wanting you,”

“Did you… did you think of me when you touched yourself, Dean?”

Dean let out another groan and Cas had to throw his arm around Dean’s waist to steady him as he felt Dean’s knees buckle.

“Bed,” Dean choked out; Cas nodded his head against Dean’s shoulder and turned him, threading their fingers together and guiding him to the bed. Before Dean could lay down Cas pushed down his boxers, smiling as Dean braced himself against him to kick them away. They settled back onto the bed, Cas licking his way insistently into Dean’s mouth as his hand wrapped once again around Dean’s cock, earning him another stuttered gasp.

“You didn’t answer my question, Dean,” Cas teased, pulling back just enough to have Dean straining up to be kissed.

“I did. I did, Cas,” Dean told him urgently, his eyes dropping down to watch Cas’ hand on him then back up to Cas’ face with a look that was nothing but wonder. “Before you and me… before we figured things out, Cas. I… I came so many times just thinking about you. I… fuck, _Cas_ ,”

Cas chuckled as Dean’s head fell back on to the pillow with a thud. “And after?”

“After? Didn’t need to think about you. Already had you. All the time,”

Cas leaned over him again, smiling. “You make it sound as though we were… insatiable, Dean,”

“‘S a good word for it,” Dean stammered out thickly, raising his head to look at Cas’ hand on him once again then letting it fall back again with another desperate groan.

Cas enjoyed that thought, glad to know what had felt like an unnecessary amount of longing for Dean was probably just his body telling him he was missing out on something that was so regular for him. And of course the lust it stirred in him was something he enjoyed as well, Cas added, grinding himself a little against Dean and humming at the friction there as he did.

“And after I fell?” Cas pressed on; Dean stilled beneath him, looking up at him cautiously. Cas’ stroking slowed a little at the expression, waiting for an answer and suddenly worrying he’d said the wrong thing.

“I couldn’t, Cas. I couldn’t… I didn’t want… I… not without you. Not when you didn’t know… not…  couldn’t, Cas,”

Dean’s eyes were beseeching as though asking for unnecessary forgiveness; Cas’ heart hammered at the thought of Dean not being able to give himself any relief, of not _needing_ any relief because he was so hurt by Cas not remembering him. It was almost too much, and Cas found himself wanting to pull away entirely. But the look in Dean’s eyes begged him not to, and Cas felt helpless.

So instead he leaned in, kissing Dean frantically as though his kisses could give all the apologies he wanted to be saying, and his hand, slick with Dean’s precum, gripped and slid faster, earning him choked out, worshipful sobs spilling against his lips from Dean’s.

Cas pulled back a little, kissing Dean once more before staring back at him intently. “I would like to see you come, Dean. Please. Look at me,”

Dean stared back, his breaths coming out short and ragged as Cas picked up his pace, and the moans Cas expected Dean would keep in, to hide from him, continued loud, and desperate, telling Cas exactly how close he was.

“Cas,” he stuttered repeatedly, not breaking the eye contact, forcing himself to look when Cas was certain he would look away. Dean swallowed thickly, his lips forming and reforming soft _ohs_ until he tensed up completely beneath Cas, and the next thing Cas felt was a rush of wet warmth against his hand as Dean contorted beneath him and he cried out, stammering Cas’ name.

“Cas,” Dean said again a moment later, tiredly, elatedly, a smile on his face that Cas didn’t think he would ever be able to forget.

Cas allowed himself a moment to watch Dean’s breathing change, become deeper, then slid carefully off the bed.

Instantly Dean was sitting up and reaching for him in alarm, before looking down at his own chest with a grimace. “Where’re you going?”

Cas laughed, tipping his chin towards the mess Dean had made. “Only for a towel,”

Silence filled the room as Cas returned, gently wiping Dean clean as he claimed small kisses, smiling against Dean’s lips. Dean took the towel from Cas’ fingers, dropped it to the floor beside the bed, and guided Cas down on to his back, hesitantly pressing a palm against Cas’ stomach and asking an unspoken question.

Cas smiled, shaking his head, pulling Dean to lay down beside him.

“You sure?”

As Cas settled against Dean he stretched languidly, feeling content despite the insistence of his body to seek out his own release. “I am sure, Dean. I wanted to… to do that for you. To feel you. But I… I would like to wait for you to… reciprocate. I am not sure why, I just—”

Dean silenced him with a kiss, and reached out to turn out the light beside the bed. “Don’t need to be any reason, Cas. We do this at your pace, remember?”

“You make me very happy, Dean,” Cas told him earnestly, snuggling in a little closer and sighing in contentment at the feel of Dean’s arms around him.

“Think you might just make _me_ , Cas,” Dean told him, completely without embarrassment or mocking, pressing tired kisses into Cas until they both succumbed to sleep.

* * *

“Sport,”

Dean tilted his head considering Cas’ question for a beat then shrugged. “You said, and I quote, figure skating looked ‘elegant’. Think you were more interested in stuff with stats though. You quoted so much… stuff at me that… I don’t know, Cas, you know me and sports,”

Cas gave a noncommittal hum and an absent, “There is poetry in mathematics, Dean. Some formulae are quite beautiful,”

Dean’s mouth twisted up in an instant grin, fighting back an affectionate laugh. “Yeah, but you asked me about sport you liked, _not_ beauty,”

Cas rolled his eyes, knocking a grumbling shoulder against Dean’s from across the Impala front seat and smiled.

“Sport can be beautiful too, Dean. _Elegant_ , if you will,”

Dean snorted, leaning across the seat and kissing Cas quickly before snagging up his fingers and curling their hands together on his lap. “Fair. And?”

Cas chewed on his lip in thought. This had been his idea; giving Dean one word questions to hear some things about himself and see how much of it he remembered _for_ himself. “I know that I enjoyed coffee,”

“You did. You _do_ ,” Dean amended, rubbing an affectionate thumb over the back of Cas’ hand. “‘Probly drink too much of the stuff too,”

Cas grumbled wordlessly. “I do not monitor what you eat and drink, Dean,”

“But I’m a pinnacle of health thanks to you, Cas. ‘sides,” Dean added, patting his stomach loudly and winking. “I’ve been fine honing the abuse of this body with beer and pie for as long as it’s been legal. Longer, even,”

Again, Cas grumbled, fighting back the urge to comment on the way Dean should be concentrating on taking care of himself, instead of him, and absolutely holding on to the cutting comment he wanted to make about John Winchester’s parenting techniques. There were still a few taboo subjects between them, and Cas’ growing dislike of the man that had _raised_ Dean grew and twisted with every new anecdote. _That_ was something he remembered very clearly from before, he thought to himself, squeezing Dean’s fingers.

“Are you going to criticise my former preference for PBJs also, Dean?”

“‘Course not. Can’t fault a classic, Cas. And what’s this about _former_ preference?” Dean asked, turning and raising an eyebrow. “Me tryna push other sandwich fillings on you finally getting somewhere?”

Cas’ lips twitched with mirth as he nodded. “You do make an excellent BLT, Dean. It is most… persuasive,”

Dean mumbled something incoherent under his breath about being _persuasive_ and leaned in to kiss Cas again. Cas quickly raised his hand to cup against Dean’s face, holding him there and kissing him back with a grin.

“Next?” Dean asked as he pulled back, shaking his head.

“You said… you said you liked it when I wore your clothes,” Cas said uncertainly, looking for confirmation.

Dean breathed out through his nose and closed his eyes, telling Cas just how much he really did like that, but added a croaked, “God, yeah,” anyway, as well as a long, appreciative glance over Cas where he sat.

“You are remembering something,” Cas told him, almost with accusation in his voice.

“Mmhmm,” Dean answered, a slight catch in his voice.

“Tell me,”

“We… we were on a case… when weren’t—aren’t—we on a case,” Dean added with a brief snort as he frowned to himself. “And… me and Sam finally convinced you to get out of your holy tax accountant get-up and wear something… _normal_ for a change, to blend in when we were undercover at a bar,”

Cas’ eyes narrowed shrewdly, remembering something himself from long ago. “I think you liked my trenchcoat, Dean,”

Dean’s eyes blew wide but he said nothing, waiting for Cas to go on.

“I remember… I remember on a number of occasions you appearing to show… _interest_ … in my trenchcoat. I remember you _looking_ at me,”

Instantly Dean’s cheeks heated, and his own memory flew to one of the many occasions back when he was still in denial about his feelings for Cas. He shrugged, admitting it wordlessly, and Cas looked triumphant, before dipping his chin and asking Dean to continue.

“Anyway,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “You and Sam went over to the bar first and I followed you after about an hour, and… and when I got there…”

“Yes?”

Dean closed his eyes and let his head drop back with a smile. “And you were wearing this plaid of mine that just…. Just looked so damn good on you, and… this guy was really into you, leaning right up against the bar next to you and just… you know,”

Cas smiled curiously but said nothing.

“And you just… easy as anything, told him _no thank you_ , that you were _taken_ , and… god… that, and—and the shirt, and…”

“And,” Cas prompted, his heart giving a quick thud as he waited.

“And… let’s just say Sam was very, uh, _eager_ , to get his own room in the motel that night,” Dean smirked, the lewdness of it painting a very clear image for Cas of what he was remembering.

Cas smiled, staring out of the window deep in thought, feeling a twinge in sadness at the no longer shared memory.

Of course, Dean caught the look, and leaned in instantly, as though to conspire with him.

“You know, Cas,” Dean began, winking at him. “That… that trenchcoat of yours… it came in… pretty handy at times when we… you know…”

“In what way?” Cas asked, thoroughly surprised, his heart beating threadily as all sorts of images assaulted his mind.

“Oh, you know. Modesty. Discretion. _Padding_ from time to time here,”

Cas’ felt his jeans tighten instantly at Dean’s words. “We.... we had sex here? In your car?”

Dean sucked his lower lip into his mouth and looked Cas up and down with clear want on his face. “Oh, yeah, Cas. We did. In here, _on_ here...”

Cas felt himself thoroughly flustered, both that he didn’t remember that for himself, and by how much the thought of it made him want to recreate the moment immediately. With a determined huff, Cas pressed himself across the seat and claimed Dean’s mouth urgently, Dean’s surprise at the suddenness of it soon disappearing as Dean grabbed and pulled him in even closer.

“I’ll… I’ll come back,”

Sam’s stuttering as he appeared next to Dean’s open window out of what felt to Cas like nowhere provided the necessary bucket of ice to force them apart. Cas pulled back first, with Dean reaching out absently to smooth down his shirt where he’d rucked it up, and both of them trying and failing not to look up at Sam with a wince.

“Uh… actually, can’t come back. Here,” Sam blustered out, shoving two bags of hot food through the open window and holding on to his own. “See you la—”

“Get in the car, Sam,” Dean barked, opening his bag out on his lap and checking over Cas’ as he did the same. “Not like you’re a blushing virgin seeing something you’ve never seen before,”

“My apologies, Sam,” Cas offered, the apology somewhat muted by the way it was said around a mouthful of fries.

“S’fine,” Sam grimaced, very carefully avoiding looking at the front seat as he slid into the back, trying and failing not to see where their hands had just been on each other.

“Dean was just… attempting to help me remember,” Cas continued, now with a mouthful of burger that did not help the situation at all.

“I’m… good without details, thanks,” Sam muttered, unwrapping his own dinner and very forcibly trying to focus his eyes elsewhere.

Dean turned slowly in his seat to look at Sam, his smile growing wicked. With an exaggerated lean across the seats he kissed Cas yet again, slowly this time, making content little noises that had Sam choking and muttering as he climbed back out of the back of the car and walked away, eating as he went.

“That… was unkind,” Cas told Dean, unable to stop the way his eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Unkind… but funny,” Dean amended, leaning to press his shoulder against Cas’ briefly before digging back into his food.

Cas looked over and watched Dean eat for a moment then snorted, and continued with his own.

* * *

 

  



	4. Chapter 4

“Is… is there a reason you don’t want me to touch you, Cas?”

Cas paused from where he’d been pressing kisses into Dean’s neck and working his hand under Dean’s shirt, resting his forehead against Dean’s shoulder and shaking it there.

“You have touched me—”

“You know what I mean, Cas,” Dean told him, turning himself over slowly so that he was still within the circle of Cas’ arm. “You… you know I don’t wanna rush you with anything, Cas, but… how come? Is… are you worried, or… I don’t know. You just don’t wanna, or—”

Cas raised his hand to lay it along Dean’s jaw, leaning in to kiss him. “I do want, Dean. I do. I want _you_. I… it is just —”

“I’m not rushing you, Cas, you know—”

“Dean,” Cas laughed, kissing him again. “I know. You are nothing but patient with me. I know this must be very frustrating for you,”

Dean shook his head, reaching down to slot his fingers between Cas’. “It’s not about being frustrated, Cas. It’s about… it’s… I’d really like it if you’d let me show you… you know. How much… how much I love you,”

Dean’s softly spoken words made Cas’ throat catch; there may have been a slight hesitance when he spoke but it was clear Dean had no problem at all with saying such things to him. Dean had told Cas he loved him many times recently, but each and every time Cas heard it was like new.

Cas found it incredible that after all the stilted, awkward conversations they had had together over the years, that Dean would be able to be so vulnerable, and open with him now. Cas felt trusted, completely and implicitly, and so thoroughly loved that in that moment he couldn’t really find a reason to hold anything back from Dean at all.

So Cas shook his head, smiling wide. “But you do show me you love me, Dean. Every day, in so many different ways,”

“I know,” Dean agreed, nudging Cas’ lips apart with his own and teasing him with open-mouthed kisses that left Cas gasping and pressing back against him as Dean ducked his head, mouthing sensitive spots beneath Cas’ jaw. “And I’ll keep doing that. But this,” he whispered, running a splayed hand down Cas’ chest and leaving it pressing low on Cas’ abdomen. “This… I’d love to show you, Cas. For you to trust me to,”

“But I do trust you, Dean,” Cas insisted, pulling Dean with and on top of him as he rolled back. “I do,”

“Then tell me,”

Dean settled himself over Cas, waiting in that ever-patient way Cas had come to recognize and appreciate more than he ever thought he would. Cas nodded, sliding his hands under the back of Dean’s shirt and let them rest there as he tentatively looked back at Dean, wide and honest.

“It will probably sound foolish,” he began, forcing himself to keep the eye contact that his embarrassed instincts told him to break.

“It won’t,” Dean assured him, keeping up frequent kisses to Cas’ lips, cheek and neck. “It won’t, I promise,”

“I worry… that... I believe that I will… it is… it is difficult to imagine giving up such… control,” Cas stammered out eventually, hands slipping down to cup Dean’s ass as Dean gently rocked against him between his legs.

“Control?” Dean asked, with a kiss pressed to his collarbone that became a lick along its length and a nuzzle against his throat.

“I feel… I feel so… lacking. In control now. Now that I am human. Allowing myself to be so… _exposed_ in that way. It… Dean, it is difficult to imagine giving up what small amount of control I have. The thought of doing that… of losing control like that… it is a little overwhelming for me,”

“I get that, Cas. I do,” Dean told him, keeping up the kisses that were teasing appreciative gasps and sounds from Cas’ mouth. “But… it’s just _me_ , Cas. You… you wouldn’t be giving up control to anyone but me. And… and I’d stop. Whenever you told me to. Whatever I was doing. I hope you know that. You know that, right, Cas?”

Cas nodded, not really trusting himself with words when his body surged and sang under Dean’s gentle caresses and kisses, desperate for Dean to do exactly what he was wanting to do to him.

“Will you let me, Cas?” Dean whispered before kissing the shell of his ear and biting down lightly on his earlobe. “Please?”

It turned out, Cas thought, as he raised himself up just enough to let Dean tenderly slide his hands up his sides, snagging and lifting his shirt up and over his head as he did, that Dean also need only say certain words in certain tones, and he himself was helpless to resist. Especially as the second his skin was cooling in the air of the evening it was covered with loving, splayed fingers and gentle, delicate kisses the started in the crook of his neck, strayed down over the curve of his shoulder and along his arm to his very fingertips.

Dean paid the same loving attention to Cas’ other arm before shifting to mouth along his collarbone, kissing his way down until he could circle his tongue around his nipple, hands splayed gently either side as though trying to touch as much of his skin at once as possible.

Dean didn’t seem to miss any part of him, kissing his way further down, along hipbones, into the softness of his stomach where Cas shivered at the scratch of Dean’s stubble, as Dean anchored him with warm hands circling his waist and keeping him gently in place. Dean continued to lavish Cas’ stomach and hipbones with his tongue and lips; Cas felt so very treasured, and loved, it was almost to a point of being too much. But then he felt Dean’s nose press just below his bellybutton and his forehead drop against his skin, fingers gripping on to his sides a little tighter, and heard a soft, thready breath escape from Dean’s mouth, and his heart raced for entirely different reasons.

“Dean?”

Dean answered with a kiss to his stomach, a stroke of his thumbs in lines down his waist, the feel of a shaky breath skimming over his skin once again.

“Dean,” Cas tried again, raising his hands and threading his fingers gently through Dean’s hair, waiting and confused.

Another kiss, another shuddering breath, and Dean was turning his cheek, laying it on Cas’ chest, wrapping his arms around him a little tighter.

“I thought I’d lost you, Cas,”

Dean’s broken whisper ghosted across Cas’ skin, making his hair stand on end and his stomach tense.

“I thought.... I thought you weren’t gonna come back to me, Cas,”

Dean turned his head to rest his chin on Cas and stared up at him, the sadness on his face making Cas’ heart ache.

“And it’s… I know it’s stupid, me getting all… worked up about it now, when we’re… when… when I keep telling you us being like this together doesn’t need to be the be all and end all for us, Cas, but…”

“It is not stupid, Dean. But,” Cas prompted, feeling Dean shuddering against him and doing his best to offer Dean comfort by stroking his hands through Dean’s hair gently.

“Miss you so much, and that’s… that’s _stupid_ , ‘cos you were right _there._ I just couldn’t _reach_ you. Couldn’t reach _for_ you. I thought… I thought I was gonna go crazy, Cas,”

“Dean,” Cas tried, but Dean was suddenly shifting, looming back over him and claiming his mouth in a soft but desperate way that spoke of the sincerity of his words. Cas was helpless but to wrap his arms around Dean’s back, pull him close, try to offer what reassurance he could that everything was okay.

When Dean had calmed and Cas could feel that his heart had quietened in its fluttering against his own chest, Dean was shifting again, kissing his way back down Cas’ body and gently sliding his fingertips into the waistband of Cas’ boxers, looking up at his face asking for permission.

Cas swallowed thickly, nodded, raised his hips to assist Dean in removing them, and tried not to show his embarrassment when his cock bounced heavily so close to Dean’s face as he dropped his hips back down.

Dean did not seem to object in the slightest; in fact, the way he swallowed thickly himself, licked his lips, couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away, told Cas he really didn’t object at all. Anticipation and need curled through Cas’ gut, but he curled his fingers tightly into his sides anyway, forcing himself to keep as calm as possible.

Dean slid his hands slowly down the front of Cas’ thighs, parting them softly at the knee and bending them until Cas’ feet were flat on the bed. Cas felt another rush of embarrassment at being displayed so openly to Dean like this, but at the feel of gentle kisses up the length of his thigh as Dean parted his legs further that embarrassment melted away to heat, want, and the best kind of anticipation.

Soft kisses and licks to his inner thigh were followed by a kiss to his stomach and hot breath that brushed over his head, making his cock jump, as Dean repeated the kisses on his other side. As the kisses moved closer to his core Cas’ heart raced faster, and it became harder for him to hold himself still.

A kiss at the base of his cock and Cas’ toes were curling; the same gentle kisses Dean had been covering him with continued up along the underside of his shaft, until Dean was lapping at the wetness over his head and a soft gasp got stuck in Cas’ throat.

Another kiss, another swirl of tongue, and Dean was smiling at him, at the way he had to press Cas gently back into the bed to stop him moving. Cas looked down as Dean kept eye contact with, pressed another kiss to his head, then slowly opened his mouth around him and swallowed him down.

Cas arched up off the bed with a guttural groan; the feel of Dean’s hot mouth around him was inexplicable, so confining, so perfect, so everything and more than Cas had ever fantasized about, that for a moment he truly felt overwhelmed and unable to cope. But then the feel of Dean sucking him a little harder, sliding his mouth up and down his shaft, varying the pressure and interrupting it with kisses and further licks over his head, and Cas found himself whimpering in the best kind of ways.

Cas thought it couldn’t feel any better, and then Dean was taking him into his mouth what felt impossibly deeper; the way Dean swallowed around him and his throat constricted along Cas’ length had him gasping out, clasping at the back of Dean’s head, desperately calling out his name. Cas’ hips twitched of their own accord; Dean loosened his grip on them and dropped his hands to the bed, and Cas found himself thrusting up into the heat of Dean’s mouth as though he had no control over it.

Which was his body’s signal to remind him to panic.

Another gasp, but an entirely different one this time, had Dean pulling off of him and glancing up in concern.

“Fuck. Did I hurt you, Cas?” he asked as he reached uncertainly for him, the fear on his face making Cas feel all kinds of guilty.

“No,” he stammered out, reached for Dean and pulling him up so that he could kiss him. He swirled his tongue past Dean’s lips and tasted himself there on Dean’s tongue, and felt the arousal spike hard in his gut with a jolt.

“No,” he repeated, skimming his hands over Dean’s skin, trying to work out when Dean had removed his shirt and finding he couldn’t remember much of anything at all but Dean’s mouth on him. “No, Dean, you felt… that… _Dean_ ,”

Dean smiled in relief, chuckled softly, and rolled himself fully over Cas to bracket his face between his forearms, kissing him thoroughly, worshipfully, until Cas was sighing out in contentment.

“You felt—feel, incredible, Dean. I just… I couldn’t… I was worried that I would hurt you and I wouldn’t be able to stop and—”

Dean soothed him with a kiss, nuzzled into his neck, and dropped down on to his side, one hand stroking down Cas’ stomach and gently gripping around his length. Cas pressed his head back into his pillow with a grunt, and closed his eyes.

“Let me see you, Cas,” Dean asked, and Cas’ eyes opened instantly again to fix on Dean’s. Dean rewarded him with another kiss, swirling his thumb over Cas’ head before he began steadily pumping Cas with his hand. Cas groaned, his hips rocking up of their own accord as Dean squeezed, twisted, rolled his hand in what felt like the perfect angles, at the perfect speed, making Cas wonder momentarily just how many times Dean had taken him in his hand like that.

“I love watching you like this,” Dean whispered, smiling, his eyes dropping occasionally as Cas’ mouth fluttered at the ripples of pleasure that surged right through him at Dean’s touch. “I love knowing you’ll let yourself come undone for me, let me _do_ this to you, Cas. You… you’ve got _no_ idea how much I...“

Cas raised his head, kissed away Dean’s words, gently holding on to the side of his face as he watched him, feeling himself building, getting closer.

“You gonna let go for me Cas? Let me see you?”

Cas’ breathing became ridiculously erratic; heat and pressure narrowed and focused in his abdomen, pressing him back into the mattress yet making him feel as though he was melting at the same time. Dean seemed to know exactly the pace to set, the precise speed to stroke him, the firmness of his grip and this little twist he kept doing that had Cas recalling the expression _seeing stars_. Not that seeing stars was anything like _this_ , he reminded himself for all of a second before Dean picked up the pace again and that pressure grew.

Cas managed to stutter out Dean’s name twice, three times more, before the heat in him surged outwards and hit him with a roll of the most blissful intensity that Cas would swear he’d never felt at his own hand. His body felt boneless, his mind empty of thought; all he was aware of in that moment was the way Dean loosened though didn’t remove his grip, and the kisses he nuzzled into Cas’ neck.

It took several minutes for Cas to become aware of anything else; the coolness on his stomach that told him of his release, and Dean’s breath in his ear that told him of Dean’s own need. Cas’ eyes opened instantly at that thought and he reached for Dean, smiling at the intake of breath in surprise he received as a result, relishing in the feel of Dean in his hand for no more than a dozen or so strokes before his own name was spilling from Dean’s lips and Dean was falling awkwardly against him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dean mumbled into his neck, though his kisses spoke of nothing but gratitude.

“I wanted to,” Cas told him simply, smiling into his hair and feeling himself grow lethargic and tired.

“We best clean up before we fall asleep like this,” Dean mumbled, moving before Cas could protest and quickly wiping them both down.

Cas turned abruptly, kissing Dean hard, trying to convey everything he wanted to say but didn’t think he could out loud. He curled himself into Dean’s chest, shifted his shoulders in contentment when Dean circled his arms there, whispered an _I love you_ against Dean’s skin, and fell instantly into contented sleep.

* * *

“It isn’t funny, Dean,”

The scowl on Cas’ face and the grumpiness in his voice when he turned back away from him had Dean howling with laughter all over again.

One glimpse at Sam standing beside Cas in a show of apparent solidarity while his shoulders silently trembled with his barely disguised laughter, and Dean was howling all over again.

Cas muttered under his breath and threw down the spatula in his hands, preparing to stomp out of the kitchen. Instantly Dean was behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and kissing into his shoulder.

Since becoming human Cas had taken on chores and learned new skills with such ease that Dean kept telling him he was a natural. Cas basked under Dean’s praise, smiling smugly to himself when Dean had pointed out to Sam that Cas had been cooking for mere months and was already about a million times better at it than he was, but the praise had made him overconfident.

“They’re muffins, Cas. Not the end of the world, and absolutely not the first thing to try and bake when you’ve never done it before,” Dean told him in a placating tone as he swayed Cas gently in his arms, looking over at Sam and sharing an hysterical though private grin with him.

On a run for groceries, Cas’ eyes had been caught by a display in a bakery window and he had come to a standstill in the middle of the sidewalk, resting a hand on his stomach as though trying to sense if he had room for something else to eat. After trying one and practically inhaling rather than eating it, Cas had demanded that they buy the ingredients to make muffins for themselves, and since Dean was incapable of denying Cas anything he wanted, he’d quickly Googled a recipe and grabbed everything on the list.

“They looked delicious in the bakery, Dean. Why would they be so difficult to recreate?” Cas grumbled, though his hands raised anyway, slotting his fingers in between Dean’s and pressing himself back against him with a huff.

Dean grinned hard at himself, dropped his head on to Cas’ shoulder to hide it and steady himself for a second then pressed another kiss there, and nodded.

“Beats me,” he said simply. “Took me six attempts, and almost burning down the kitchenette in a motel we were staying in ‘fore I got it about right. Good thing Dad was bailing without paying again, ‘cos otherwise he’dve kicked my ass for making us lose a deposit we never actually paid,”

Cas swallowed back the remorse he felt at yet another reminder of Dean and Sam’s less than wholesome upbringing, and instead looked up and over at Sam, seeing an encouraging smile there.

“They were good,” Sam told him, grinning wider, and wider still as Dean chuckled again, nuzzling absently into Cas’ neck.

“I’d settle for ‘awesome’, Sam, I’m not proud,”

Cas found himself laughing and his sullenness lifting, and he dropped his head back against Dean’s shoulder with a defeated sigh.

“Then perhaps you should demonstrate, Dean,” he said, idly wondering to himself about this moment between the three of them. Stood in the kitchen of the bunker talking about something as mundane as baking, him comfortably in Dean’s arms with Sam not even blinking or commenting on it, as though this was something he’d witnessed on many occasions. It made Cas sad that perhaps there were a thousand small memories like this that he couldn’t remember experiencing, that had passed him by and he would never get the opportunity to relive for himself.

But Dean’s arms circled him a little tighter as if Dean was reading his mind, and Cas felt his sigh turn to one of acceptance and contentment, and Cas firmly pushed his sadness away, letting himself enjoy the moment for what it was.

“You want muffins, Cas? You got ‘em. Though we best go shopping again… you just used up the last of the eggs with your, uh… yeah,”

“Oh,” Cas said, sorrow in his voice that had Dean laughing softly again and turning Cas in his arms. Cas grumbled in to Dean’s shoulder, firmly wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and closing his eyes with a smile.

* * *

 

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

“When are you going to tell me what happened?”

Dean looked up sleepily from where he’d been laid on Cas’ chest and raised an eyebrow in question. “About?”

Cas rolled his eyes, stroking his hands over Dean’s bare shoulders. “Dean,”

Understanding dawned for Dean and his face froze, eyes slipping away from Cas’ expectant gaze. “You mean… about you falling,”

“Of course I mean about my falling, Dean,” Cas told him, his tone impatient.

Immediately Dean felt Cas tense beneath him and a second later he let out a huff of surprise as he was pulled up and flipped on to his back, bracketed between Cas’ arms.

“I did not mean… I… I am not… I—”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean reassured him, looping his arms around Cas and pulling him flush against him.

“I am not angry with you,”

“I know,”

Cas pressed insistent kisses into Dean’s neck, along his jaw and on to his lips until he felt Dean’s curling up into a grin.

“I just… it’s been a while since you asked is all. Any time I bring it up you immediately change the subject. Kinda thought you either didn’t wanna know, or that you’d given up tryna find out,”

Cas pulled back slightly to study Dean’s face, and Dean laid perfectly still under Cas’ inspection.

“I feel that I should know,” Cas told him with hesitation.

“Then I’ll tell you,”

“But,” Cas stopped him, bending down to kiss him once again, “I am… reluctant.”

“Then I won’t tell you,” Dean smiled, and Cas sighed at how simple Dean was making it sound.

“You… you would tell me if it was because I did something wrong,” Cas asked, and Dean shifted until his arms were looped around Cas’ neck, pulling him close.

“Cas, for the hundredth time, you’ve gotta believe me. You didn’t do anything wrong,”

* * *

Dean glanced around them as though he was checking nobody was looking then crowded Cas back against the Impala and wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing him deep.

Surprised, Cas lifted his arms to wrap around him and held on tight, sighing as Dean dragged his hands back to cup Cas’ face and angle him just how he wanted him.

“Cas,” he whispered loudly, ghosting kisses to Cas’ cheeks, and nose, and ear, “I ever tell you you’re the best thing that ever happened to me in the history of ever?”

Cas laughed softly, nodding. “You may have mentioned that one or two times, yes,”

“Good,” Dean said, pleased, kissing him softly again, “Wouldn’t want you to forget,”

“You are incredibly affectionate, today, Dean,” Cas observed, casting his mind back over how much _more_ he had been, showering him with kisses, stroking of fingers, smiles that just _beamed_ how happy he was feeling. “Is there something I am missing?”

“Nope,” Dean smiled, shaking his head and leaning against Cas contentedly, nuzzling into his neck. “Just reminding you,”

“Reminding me?” Cas repeated, smiling but feeling a little perplexed.

“Uh huh,” Dean confirmed, smiling into his neck as he breathed in with contentment.

“Reminding me of what?”

Dean snorted, pulled himself up, and fixed Cas with a look that was incredulous but adoring.

“You know,”

* * *

“This is nice,” Cas mumbled into Dean’s chest sleepily, sighing as Dean stroked his palms down Cas’ bare skin as they woke.

Dean strained himself upwards to kiss Cas, cupping a hand to his face and humming gently against his lips, before pulling back with a soft yawn.

“It is,” he agreed, stretching a little more before wrapping his arms tightly around Cas’ shoulders.

“Did I used to lay on you like this, Dean?” Cas asked, pressing absent kisses over Dean’s chest and pausing to flick his tongue out over a nipple, smiling as Dean let out a small, pleased hum.

“What, on me?” Dean said, looking down at him bleary-eyed, hands still stroking idly over Cas’ back.

“Yes,” Cas replied, a kiss to his sternum before resting his chin there and staring up at him patiently.

“You did, yeah,” Dean smiled. “‘Though you didn’t do too much sleeping,”

Cas gave a noncommittal hum and dropped another absent kiss on Dean, sighing softly.

“I still wish I could remember _more_ , Dean,” he sighed, nuzzling into him again.

“I know, Cas,” Dean sympathized, “But… but we’re doing okay, right? I mean… I can tell you anything you wanna know, if you really wanna know it,”

Cas caught the hesitancy in Dean’s voice that was always there when this subject came up and smiled, pulling himself up to his knees and pressing a kiss to Dean’s stomach before kneeling his way off the bed and beginning to dress.

“I don’t know which of us is most reluctant to talk about this, Dean,” Cas chuckled, deliberately dressing slowly and letting Dean watch.

Dean moved suddenly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pulling Cas between them, pressing his head against Cas’ stomach and blowing warm breath there before standing himself, dressing beside him.

“Not… Not reluctant as much as… it’s… I don’t know, Cas,” Dean said, pulling his t-shirt on and straightening Cas’ collar out absently for him. “I just… we’re good right now, right, Cas?”

Cas turned to look at him curiously but nodded anyway, snagging out his fingers to catch through Dean’s.

“Of course,”

“So maybe… maybe this… maybe this is all we need… and you don’t need to remember,” Dean suggested, not able to keep the tremor from his voice.

Cas’ curiosity was thoroughly piqued at the tone, and he raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to Dean as though challenging him.

“You say it like that and it still feels as though you are hiding something important,” Cas pointed out.

Dean went completely still, fists clenching by his sides and his head hanging as though with difficulty at his own thoughts.

“Dean,” Cas prompted, feeling his heart thud in inexplicable worry at the look on Dean’s face as he waited for him to speak. The blood rushed in Cas’ ears leaving him feeling dizzy; he knew instantly from Dean’s posture that he was about to find out what he’d been half-avoiding for months now, and didn’t know whether to welcome it or run away.

“You… you did it for me, Cas,”

Dean’s pained, guilt-ridden confession was stuttered out with Dean reaching out to Cas with as much hesitation as he had shown when Cas had first woken up.

“For you?” Cas answered, his voice quiet and not giving Dean any clue as to how he was feeling. He wasn’t even sure himself in that moment; his heart seeming to start up a frantic drumming, his thoughts becoming clouded, and it felt as though the floor was bulging beneath his feet.

“Yeah. For me, Cas. And I… I’m sorry, okay? I really am,”

Cas shook his head but couldn’t bring himself to step any closer to Dean, feeling mystified at both Dean’s reaction and his own numbness. “Why are you sorry?”

“You gave it all up for me, Cas. All of it,”

“Did you ask me to?”

“No, but—”

“Did you force me?” Cas pressed on, feeling his heart pounding harder whilst trying to offer Dean reassurance when in all honesty he didn’t know that it was something he could give him.

“No, Cas. God, no. I mean I kind of begged you not to,”

Cas’ eyes widened and he felt himself stumble backward. “You did not want me to?”

“I didn’t want you to give up being an angel for me, Cas. I told you then… a hundred times I told you it was a waste, that we’d find another way, that we—”

“Find another way for what, Dean?”

Dean’s shoulder slumped and he turned away, bringing a hand up as though to shield his eyes.

“You… I… I—”

“Tell me, Dean,” Cas demanded, hearing the anger spiking in his voice but not able to control it. This was when he would hear about his violent end as an angel, Cas told himself. This was when everything would begin to make sense.

“You did it for me… ‘cos I didn’t… ‘cos I… ‘cos you told me… you told me…” But Dean’s words trailed away awkwardly to nothing and he sighed at himself in frustration, pacing away from Cas.

“What did I tell you?” Cas asked, trying and failing to keep the urgency from his tone.

“You told me,” Dean repeated, turning very slowly, “That… that I deserved a ‘normal’ life. That… that you wanted to give me that. After… after everything. And that you could only do that if you were human. And…”

“And?” Cas prompted, folding his hands tightly across his chest.

“And… and you _wanted_ to, Cas. You wanted… you _said_ you wanted it. To… to be human, to… to have that. To have that with _me_ ,”

Dean’s voice was broken, small, and so very sad that part of Cas ached to reach out and comfort him. But a part was of him was still desperately waiting for answers, and that part won out, kept him standing stock still, staring back at Dean demanding an explanation.

“And… and we kind of argued about it, a lot. A bit. I… I said I’d only agree for you to do it—”

“‘Agree for me to do it?’” Cas repeated back bitterly, instantly defensive.

“Cas,” Dean tried anxiously, seeing Cas’ anger and looking so very lost.

“You assume a lot of responsibility for my choices, Dean. I may not remember _us_ , specifically. But I do remember that. My choices are my own,”

Cas couldn’t tell for himself whether he was angrier at himself, or Dean, or something else entirely. He could only feel it boiling through him, surging beneath his skin as it had done not so long ago.

Dean nodding miserably in agreement did nothing to give Cas any guidance either.

“I’m… I am so sorry, Cas.”

“What was the plan?”

Dean looked up at Cas then, surprised. “‘The plan’?”

“Yes, Dean. The plan. There is always a plan when it comes to—”

“When it comes to us?” Dean replied, dull and accepting of Cas’ anger.

Cas stumbled, feeling his own flash of guilt at the obvious hurt there on Dean’s face. “Yes,”

Nodding, and sighing, and looking thoroughly defeated, Dean turned. “The _plan_ , Cas. Was that… that after it all. That after everything we’ve been through. You, me and Sam. We were gonna give it up. Give it all up. Hunting. Everything we do. Get some normal. You told me we deserved it. That… you told me _I_ deserved it.”

“I do not imagine you believed that very easily,” Softness hit Cas’ voice now as he stared back and began to see things from Dean’s perspective.

“I didn’t,” Dean agreed, cuffing a hand to the back of his neck. “But you said. You said it’d be worth it. That… you said...you said… I didn’t make you, Cas. You’ve gotta know that I didn’t,”

“I believe we have established that you could not force me to do _anything_ I didn’t want to already do, Dean,”

“I… I’m sorry, Cas,”

“I do not understand why you feel the need to keep apologizing,” Cas found his own voice rising and his heart hammering louder with panic.

“‘Cos I don’t know what else to do here, Cas,” Dean answered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t…  can’t take it back. I can’t… undo it. And I… I don’t wanna lose you, Cas,”

“I did not ask you to take it back, Dean,”

“Would you? If you could? Would you go back?”

“I cannot—”

“But would you, Cas?”

“It is a pointless question, Dean, because I cannot,”

“Cas…”

“You. _We_. Were going to give up… everything that we have been, for our entire lives, to live a normal, human existence? I am finding that very, very difficult to believe, Dean,”

“It’s true, Cas. I… I know it probably sounds crazy to you after everything, ‘cos you can’t remember what it—what _we_ were like, but… It _is_ true. I promise,”

Cas sighed, hard, taking a step towards Dean and resting his hands on Dean’s hips, the anger dissipating almost as instantly as it had arrived. “This is… this is not your fault, Dean. If that is what you are thinking, which I suspect that it is, please know that it is not. I just need… I need some time to—”

“Cas,” Dean interrupted, closing the gap between them with fear in his eyes. “You don’t mean—”

Cas leaned forward instantly and kissed him, shaking his head. “I did not mean that I needed time from _you_ , Dean. I meant… I need time to understand,”

“I’m sorry, Cas. I… I know this is… this feels like a _punishment_ to you,”

“No, Dean, I—”

“I’m… sorry, Cas. I…” Dean backed away from Cas then, defensive once more, shutting down walls Cas remembered seeing far too many times to not know when he was being deliberately shut out. “I know you regret it. I know you do, and I tried, I tried to convince you not to do it. And… and you never told me this could happen, Cas. You never told me… you never told me I’d be alone in this, that you might not remember, that I…”

To Cas’ horror he saw anguish flood across Dean’s face as he tried and failed to hide how much he was hurting. Before he could reach out to comfort or attempt to reassure him Dean had turned on his heel and left the room.

* * *

“Dean. Please will you allow me to talk to you?”

Cas had tried to respect Dean’s need for space after their talk, trying and failing not to worry when he went to bed alone, and woke up that way as well. In the morning the sheets beside him were uncrumpled, and as Cas had stumbled his way to the kitchen his heart had sunk to find a blanket folded up like a pillow on the table that told him that had been where Dean had fallen asleep.

For the best part of two days, and two nights of sleeping alone, Cas had fought the urge to corner Dean to speak to him, always catching only the sight of him leaving a room and feeling his heart sicken and thud. But on the third morning of waking and reaching for Dean, and finding him not there, Cas had stalked up to him, angry, attempting and failing to force a conversation that he knew was long overdue.

It hadn’t gone well; Dean had looked at him with guarded eyes each and every time he tried, walking away from him wordlessly and leaving Cas feeling so very lost and alone.

Cas watched Dean now, feeling helpless as Dean took out his obvious frustration on cleaning and polishing the Impala to perfection. It was something he had watched Dean do countless times, one of Dean’s healthier coping mechanisms for when something was going on for him that was too big to handle and he was refusing to speak about it.

Cas found some comfort that Dean hadn’t reached straight for a bottle of whiskey like he had seen him do countless times as well, and shifted a little closer to him though still giving enough of the distance he knew Dean would be needing.

“Dean,” he tried again when there was no answer, glancing over Dean’s knuckles as they tightened around the cloth in his hands as he worked.

“This is exactly why we argued about this so much, Cas,” Dean said with an abrupt turn, leaning back against the Impala’s side and crossing his arms defensively across his chest.

“‘This’?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, both anger and hurt warring across his face. “This. This… you regretting it all. Realising too late that it wasn’t what you really wanted. That _I_ wasn’t what you really wanted. I tried to tell you, Cas. Honestly, I told you so many times you didn’t need to do this for me,”

“I would do _anything_ for you, Dean,” Cas protested quietly, taking another step and standing directly in front of Dean, though out of arm's reach.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed with a bitter laugh. “And look at us now,”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Dean said, glimpsing at Cas’ face for a second then quickly away again. “It means… it means I can’t look at you without feeling bad. It means… it means I’ve gotta live with this guilt of you doing something for me that’s… that’s… it’s too big, Cas. It’s too much. I would never ask this of you, and you… you went and did it anyway,”

“I know you wouldn’t, Dean. And I wish that you wouldn’t feel guilt for this. It was my decision. Mine to think about, to go over, to—”

“Regret,” Dean said, the word catching and telling Cas exactly how much he was hurting.

“It is not the action that I regret, Dean. Not the choice I made,”

“But you _do_ regret it,” Dean insisted, his eyes lifting to Cas’ face and the expression there making Cas’ heart sink.

“I regret not _knowing_ Dean. Of not knowing how we arrived at that point. Of… of not _knowing_ you, in the way that led me to making that decision. It is not… I do not regret _being_ here, Dean, you must know that,”

“Regret’s regret, Cas,”

“It is _not_ , Dean.”

“It is from where I’m standing,” Dean countered, fixing Cas with a look and then turning away again, not before Cas caught a glimpse of the brightness in Dean’s eyes.

“Dean—”

“Just… leave it, Cas, okay? I can’t… I’m sorry, okay? I…” But whatever Dean was trying to say failed him, and instead he returned to his methodical cleaning showing Cas nothing but his back.

Cas felt sadness fill him, making him heavy, and aching. “I love you, Dean,” he mumbled, watching as Dean’s back tensed up at his words, causing him to pause once again.

Dean glimpsed back over his shoulder yet not directly at Cas before resuming his work.

“You’ll regret that too. Count on it,”

The sharpness of Dean’s words lashed across Cas’ gut, and before he himself could bite back with cruel words he didn’t even mean, Cas turned on his heel and quietly left Dean to work, not hearing the choked sob Dean gave at the sound of Cas closing the garage door behind him.

* * *

 

  
  



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